Dariusprime

"I know where you're coming from there, KC," commented Fulcrum. She didn't say anything more, still waiting to get more details from the young man. Still she couldn't help but think about her own fortunes. Art was a difficult career and rarely a stable one. Fame, fortune and popularity were fleeting things in the art world. She smiled to herself. At the very least the whole starving artist stage had been relatively painless for her. Although it sounded like KC was still working through that himself.

"Considering Dark Star's healing ability, you'll be back to smiling pretty in no time. Besides I don't punch that hard," teased Fulcrum while she flexed her biceps, "Rock'em Sock'em Robots using these two would be really fun though." Her attention turning back to the fight, she nearly missed Ace's suggestive whisper. The look on her face was a mixture of pure shock and more than a little skepticism. That sort of information was difficult for Mona to process. Ace came across a bit inscrutable, sort of like a more mature version of Jack. The thought of an older, wiser Jack was even more terrifying, and Mona shook that thought from her head immediately. Anyway, he could have very well been pulling her leg and hiding behind that patented smile. Staring into him side long, she finally gave up and instinctively turned to Atlas, curiosity and a little surprise still playing over her face. Oh sure, the action had a touch of subtlety to it, but lets face it, Fulcrum wasn't stealthy by nature and really wasn't that great at disguising her feelings. He doesn't look 'smitten'...

Fulcrum couldn't help but smile at Jack's tactics. If she figured out one thing about the man, it was his flare for the dramatic. That his theatrics always, or least nearly always, had a very practical purpose didn't escape her notice. Obviously he knew what he was doing. He managed to bluff a pixie into a blindfolded boxing match. Now the only question left what was his angle? Her thoughts were interrupted by the good natured ribbing of Ace and Colt, "Good idea, Colt. Only way I'll keep him from cleaning my clock," she quipped while watching the match. So the truth came at last. She was just as worried as Atlas, if not more so. She gazed evenly at Ace, raising an eyebrow at his smile, and returned to the fight, "Not to beat a dead horse, but look at the size of him. Even as big as I am, his biceps are bigger than my thighs." Shaking her head, she grinned, "Besides aren't the two of us big enough to up the ante?"

Welcome aboard! Do not feed the angels, aliens or :cthulhu:. Do have fun. :)

Mind if I jump in please? Fulcrum would like to chat with the angel too, but didn't think it appropriate when he first appeared. Plus the crew wandering this thread are just wonderfully eclectic. If it's too full I understand completely. Reading this thread has been a blast. :lol:

Welcome and much fun! Best wishes on getting Madcap approved too. To quote George Carlin, "May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house."

Once Jack vacated, Fulcrum stood with a smirk, two-finger saluted Dark Star for his telekinetics, and strolled alongside Atlas. The banty rooster took off before she could pinch his cheek. Then again his performance was to be expected, being his modus operandi after all. Chuckling, she whispered to Atlas, "You have no idea." "Wisecracks about your age aside, you're one of hell of a fighter, Ace." The comment was quite honest and accompanied a more mild handshake. Fulcrum too initially thought Ace something of a pretty boy, his reputation based at least on part on tall tales and misquoted exaggerations. Maybe he did have a martial artists mentor hidden away somewhere. True, the Invasion really demonstrated...but...yeah. The congratulations in order, Fulcrum shifted her seat to Colt's free side and patted him, gently, on the shoulder, "Good go of it anyway, Colt. Maybe we should go for dinner after the fights?" She addressed the last question to Colt and Atlas, if anything to keep Grimalkin from getting jealous. For all she knew Grim had hyper-acute hearing. :ninja:

"Flatterer," Fulcrum quipped before falling silent. Frankly, she was curious to learn more about KC. Breakdown too. Breakdown seemed a little more forthcoming, so she was content to let Breakdown tease the information from the other young hero. Not to mention talking to a guy about the same age probably helped. Otherwise she browsed costumes. Something unconscious tugged her back to the Invasion Room, but not strongly enough to register in the conscious mind. Thankfully the suits were both inventive and colorful. At least these newer ones. Best to leave that leather one in the past.

Fulcrum snickered at Atlas' insinuations, but didn't get the chance for her own counter. That hook came in and she knew Colt's number was up if it connected. She watched enough matches to know a mean punch when she saw it. Hell, even being a spectator was painful at that point. A genuine grimace crossed her face. Turning to Grim, she started to say, "Now the sharpshooting category...," but consoled air. Instead she eyed Jack, her lashes fluttering innocently, "Pop quiz, hotshot." Simultaneously the chair shot out from under her. One advantage of her form of flight was the ability to hover, even poised in a sitting position.

Fulcrum kept glancing between the fight and Jack. Both activities were entertaining to say the least. She snorted at his retort, "Don't mind him, Atlas. I think he is going to talk Grim to death." She thumbed toward the match, "I wonder what they're saying." Speaking of the match, Fulcrum jotted down a couple of notes. Her handwriting was terrible, but looked like she was scoring the fighters. How scoring a boxing match turned MMA bout would work was another question.

"Pretty much. You two make me feel old. I'm pushing 30 this year. Haven't aged a day I can tell," she trailed off while fiddling with her phone. Pocketing the phone, she shot Breakdown a wry grin, "Geckoman, huh? I've met him before. Joker is a good way of describing him. Good guy but I worry about his ship. Little flaky. Sounds like a solid team though. Really does. My philosophy is that you need a good mix of personalities and abilities to really get the most bang for your buck. Are you planning on going pro after graduation?"

Seeing the commotion inside the cockpit, Fulcrum veered away from the Pitchoo. That flying contraption needed plenty of space as far as she was concerned. Still the more she watched, the more worried she became. So worried in fact that she dropped beneath it, ready to grab hold if something were to...burst? Still everything seemed to be going fairly smoothly. If they could just land, then one major hurdle would have been topped. Her mind raced over the real issue however. She honestly didn't encounter enough close-range cosmic energy sources to fully develop her awareness of them. On the one hand, that was a bit on the side of frightening. One never knew when a unique skill like that would come in handy. But on the positive, this opportunity was perfect to develop such a refined view of the cosmos. Sans gods, reality-shattering aliens and other monstrosities of course.

"Thanks," Fulcrum said as she entered the frequency into her iPhone, "The funny thing is five years ago I would never have imagined knowing someone that could monitor radio bands in his head." "Yeah, definitely flight. My feet hurt just looking at them. Never understood that or the tight ones." she chuckled. Moving on to other costumes, "So you're a member of Young Freedom, Breakdown? What are they like?"

The only thing better than a good competition was the spectators. At least that was how Fulcrum saw it. Which meant that she couldn't more than side long at Grim without laughing. Between Jack's wisecracks, Atlas' cheers and Grim's "encouragement", the excitement was contagious and more than enough to keep her entertained. Pausing a moment, she pulled over a pad and began taking notes. Other than that, she kicked her feet up with a bottle of water in hand. No sense getting all riled up. Glancing at Jack and Atlas, she closed one eye and bugged the other out, "Who says I'm the sane one?" A sly smile crossed her face as she turned back to the fight.

"Sounds a little nutty, but a pretty good guy overall," commented Fulcrum as they looked over the costumes, "A super hero school is a great idea. I wish I had that when I started out. Had to learn everything the hard way. Sounds like a good place for you, Kid Cthulhu." She stopped in front of a skin-tight, black leather outfit. Judging from the uncomfortable expression on her face, impressed was not the right way to describe her reaction. Rubbing the back of her neck, "Did a woman really wear that? I wonder if size control was her super power. I mean one ice cream cone and she'd have to pour herself into the thing. And look at those heels. I have trouble fighting in these things." She motioned down to her gold boots. Hopefully KC would join up. If the school was half as good as Breakdown made it out, then the young hero would do well by learning from experienced people. Which of course brought another thought to mind, "So I take it that at least some of the staff are heroes or ex-heroes?"

Fulcrum laughed lightly, "Well said, Atlas, well said." She patted him on the free arm. As the bout was getting under way, she fell silent, watching Jack's antics, saying nothing, and blowing a raspberry at him. Overall she'd put herself on the endeared side of the swashbuckler. True his behavior seemed rather...annoying and inappropriate....at times, but at the same time that rogue's grin wasn't the reason she liked him. Somehow, though she couldn't put her finger on it, the act was oddly familiar. So familiar that she wanted to bap him upside the head for it. A friendly thump though. The match itself looked promising, but she had the ask the $10,000 questions on her mind, "That's Dark Star right? Not to insult the man, but is he always this wooden?" Her second question though was a bit more serious, "Who are you putting money on?"

"Yes, it is," Fulcrum said before falling silent. She occupied herself with the costumes and listened to the two banter. Somehow listening to their energy and enthusiasm made her feel really old. She did remember hearing about Young Freedom though and was pleased to finally be meeting a member. Many, many questions lingered after the Invasion, and answers straight from the source were always, almost anyway, the best. A mental note was tucked away to ask Breakdown for specifics. The costumes were as spectacular as Edge argued. The beauty of the 1990s in super hero lore was its diversity. Every decade or era had its distinctive style. The 1990s synthesized these often disparate styles into an eclectic whole. Every imaginable design from Victorian coats to flag-themed fatigues to a hall completely dedicated to the evolution of capes highlighted the decade. If anyone needed inspiration for a costume or accessory thereof, all they needed to do was go hit this part of the museum. The only lingering question, at least to someone to Fulcrum, was what would be the defining style of the last decade? Her pondering was interrupted by the mention of Claremont Academy. More accurately Claremont registered, and she had to review what all Breakdown said about it. When her mind comprehended the impact, she turned to Breakdown, her jaw hanging open in surprise. A super hero training academy? Why hadn't she heard of this one? She hadn't heard about the background of Next Gen or Young Freedom, but it made so much sense that they were trained together. Hell, adult super hero teams rarely operated so efficiently together. Talk about missing critical information. Shaking her head, "Learn something new every day. Do they allow visitors?"

Standing there at the entrance, Fulcrum felt overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the event. She hid it well enough, but her stomach churned up a storm. Her game face slipped on seamlessly once the moment of truth arrived. Didn't help her stomach much though. Thankfully, she wasn't among the first round of bouts. That gave her an opportunity to work the crowd and take her turn as a jungle gym for the orphans. Now officially the kids were supposed to be remain seated, but that much hyperactivity cannot be contained. Now that she was relaxed, she loved it, and the orphans loved hovering on her arms and shoulders. If she could manage it, she pulled Atlas into the fray, unwittingly putting him through round two and hopefully getting a couple of group poses with him. Once the announcements began, she settled into a seat next to big guy. Flexing a bicep, she whispered, actually yelled over the crowd, "What have we gotten ourselves into?" She grinned.

Fulcrum visibly relaxed and leaned back in the pew. Resting her arms over the top, she watched the swarm descend upon the angelic man. While the tension drained away physically, her mind was still fair from at ease. Something still felt very wrong about this entire situation, but honestly she didn't have enough information to draw an informed conclusion. The reaction of the congregation was telling. That was one of the main reasons she remained seated and observing. In any case best not to interrupt the new festivities. This Christmas eve looked to one for the papers. That much was for certain. I love Freedom City.

Fulcrum smirked and walked to the Centurion statue, looking it in the eyes. "No, we most certainly do not," said Fulcrum as she pulled her gaze away, "Even if we don't reach Centurion's power, the point is the do the best we can. Doing good individually and as part of something greater than ourselves." Taking one last look at the Omega statue, Fulcrum continued through the exhibit, "That being said, the reason this city is so great is because of many, many elements besides Centurion. The quasi-religious image that has developed around him is more than a bit unsettling. I'm not a biographer of the man, but I suspect he would be very uncomfortable being framed as some sort of divine savior." "Keep in mind this is coming from someone that has been accused of desecrating his memory," she added while turning to them.

"May as well go squid," Fulcrum said offhandedly, "People are used to unusual sights around this place. You should see the costume play groups that come through here. Makes you seem pretty tame." Heading into the '90s themed wing, Fulcrum took the lead, "The '90s were an interesting time for supers. In Freedom City's history, the '90s saw the end of the Moore Administration and re-establishment of the Freedom League," She gestured at a large montage of photos and documents, one a picket reading 'No Moore!'. Contradictory elements pervaded the exhibit, from the retired military costumes of FORCE Ops to the classic shield carried by The Patriot. As the years count off, the darker colors slowly give away to more four-color looks. "The cynicism and violence of the 1980s finally started to heal, and people rediscovered the older heroes and their ideals, naive or not." "But I would be liar if I didn't bring up what I'm sure you know is the defining moment of the '90s. The event that some people credit with the revitalizing of the hero community." She stopped in front of a model. Nine feet high and remarkably life-like, the figure was clad in thick red armor and a transparent yellow helmet. An evil-looking, red eyed skull stared from within an alien glow. A silver omega symbol adorned the chest. "The Terminus Invasion."

Fulcrum adjusted her flight path and examined the mountain. The sensation was unsettling to say the least. Was the mountain actually disintegrating? Intuitively she understood the concept on a cosmic scale, but a few minutes west of Freedom City didn't seem cosmic enough. Must be what they were looking for, judging from the sensation and Tempest's cloud trail. Banking up close to the cockpit, Fulcrum motioned toward the mountain with one arm. Their attention on her, she pointed at her eyes with two fingers and shook her head. A worried look crossed her face. She may not have heard Colt, but the sentiment was definitely shared. The real problem, the one they were racing toward, was the cause of this...collapse.

<.> I'm interested as well.

Fulcrum's eyes narrowed as Psyche rose above the pew. Focusing back on the angel, her body tensed unconsciously but did her best to look calm. Something was definitely wrong here. She honestly didn't know what exactly was off, but best not to take any chances. Popping her neck, one part of her didn't want a brawl, but the other was looking forward to matching off against this guy. Still what was his angle? Was this some amazing performance? Was that technicolor fellow part of the act, or was he mesmerized? Or most troubling, was this 'angel' really some sort of supernatural being? All these questions and no answers were forthcoming. Suddenly Fulcrum felt really out of the loop.

Fulcrum laughed, "After flying across town? I'll put the poor guy to sleep. Plus its a very big museum." Holding the door for them, she headed inside, "That's a cool ability, Breakdown. How many people can you make fly at once?" Inside the main lobby, the mundane exterior transformed into the brightly colored, even gaudy patterns of super heroes through the decades. A huge globe seemingly floated free above a fountain in the center of a high entrance. Life-size models of the current Freedom League members greeted them along the walls along with posters advertising the exhibits. Waving at a passing security guard, who returned with a smile, Fulcrum turned to Kid Cthulhu, "So where do you want to start? The history of super heroes? Costumes? Specific supers? Maybe a decade? The '40s and '90s had some really interesting ones."